


Possibilities

by Jantique



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Post-CA:TWS, Stony - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2277006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY:  He was going to lose Steve. Maybe he already had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possibilities

**Author's Note:**

> Post Captain America: The Winter Soldier 
> 
> AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’ve been writing for years, but this is my first Marvel fic, and I’m NOT up on canon. Therefore, constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. That does _not_ include SHOUTING, or comments involving “Now I have to bleach my brain.” If you can calmly point out what the problem is, I will do my best to fix it. Okay? Thanks.

Tony finally, finally, had it all. He had his business empire, successful even without manufacturing weapons. But that was minor. He had his arc reactor--which meant, he had his _life_. That was huge. Best of all, he had the things that made life worth living—his work as Iron Man, he had the Avengers—not just colleagues, but friends. _Friends_! Not Stark-hangers-on, or even Iron Man-fans, but Tony-friends. People who knew him and liked him anyway. He treasured that.

And best of all, he had Steve Rogers—his teammate, friend and recently, lover. Sure, they were like chalk and cheese, but it _worked_ ; they worked best together. He _saw_ Steve, not just Captain America. Making love with Steve was enthusiastic and energetic, sure, but sweet, too. Even the non-sexy parts. Just holding each other and feeling _loved_. That would never get old. And sure, he knew that part of Steve’s heart would always belong to Bucky Barnes, just as part of his would always be with Pepper. When you give your heart, you never get it all back. But no one’s heart is whole; that was part of the price of living. Finding someone to gladly give your heart to, to receive theirs in return—that was worth anything. It was _everything_. He had it all.

And then.

And then. 

The Winter Soldier. 

Bucky Fucking Barnes.

Barnes, who was alive, who did his damnedest to _kill_ Steve, and then—Steve jumped on his motorcycle and took off after him. Trying to _find_ him. Trying to _work things out_! Chasing a ghost.

Tony stood on the roof of Stark Tower. Far above the bright lights of the city, he gazed past the strips of moonlight to the darkness beyond. He had a glass in his hand and a bottle on the table, but he’d scarcely drunk any yet. He was too heartsick, lost in his own misery. He was going to lose Steve. Maybe he already had.

The way Tony saw it, there were three possibilities. First, Barnes would fight Rogers—again—and this time, Barnes would kill Steve. Captain America versus the Winter Soldier. It was … not impossible. But Tony knew that Steve wouldn’t welcome, couldn’t accept, his help. This was between the two of them.

Second, they would fight and Steve would kill Barnes. That, too, would destroy Steve. To be forced to kill the man he had loved; to fail him a _second_ time … would be horrific. Barnes would become a martyr in Steve’s eyes; he would never forgive himself. Never again be free to accept Tony’s love.

Third, they would _not_ fight. They would talk, work it out, make up somehow, realize they belonged together and walk hand-in-hand into the sunset. Christ! Tony wanted Steve to be happy. He did! Was it selfish to want Steve to be happy with _him_?! 

Whoever wrote, “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” was a moron, Tony decided. He finally had it all—and he was losing the one thing for which he would gladly trade all the rest. 

Maybe he should call Pepper; she wouldn’t mind—No. He needed to stop using her as his emotional crutch. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t kind. If he valued her friendship—and he truly did—he wouldn’t use her as his rebound. Although it didn’t feel like a rebound, just yet. It felt like his suit failing in mid-air, falling from a great height and going SPLAT! on the pavement. No bounding at all.

Wine, women and song, that was what he needed. There wasn’t much that expensive booze and cheap sex couldn’t numb. Not … much.

He stood on the roof, breathing the cool night air as faint sounds drifted up from below—the whoosh of cars, the rumble of a motorcycle just below him. Well. Life went on. He would get back to work. He would. Tomorrow. ‘Tomorrow is another day’, and all that. He watched the shifting moonlight as clouds scudded over the water. It was peaceful. No problems. Maybe he would just stay here forever.

The hairs on his neck prickled at the faintest of sounds close by. Something—someone—was behind him. Probably safe, but in the superhero business, you never knew. Slowly, carefully, he turned … and caught his breath. It was Steve. Tony knew he wasn’t nearly enough drunk to be hallucinating, so … Steve, holding out his hands, biting his lip, looking very Steven Grant Rogers, and not at all Captain America.

Tony waited. Steve’s show, here. The big man did his best to project “Cool”, but Tony could see his tells in the moonlight. He was nervous, too. 

Steve took a couple of deep breaths and said, “I asked Natasha and Sam to find him. I … It shouldn’t be me. What we had was in the past. I’ll never regret it, but … that’s not who we are now. Either of us. And … Bucky isn’t my future.”

Tony stepped closer and asked quietly, “Am I? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, Capsicle, I really want you to be mine. But you need to choose.” It burned like fire, but he pushed the words out. They had to be said. “I won’t … I can’t be your rebound, the guy you settle for.”

Steve put his hand under Tony’s chin, and tilted his head so they were eye-to-eye. “Tony. I don’t have casual sex. You know that. You weren’t just a warm body to hold me when I felt lonely and lost. I don’t even know how you and I are friends, but I care about you. I lo-… care a lot.” That was as close as he could come to saying IT. It had to be enough.

“Steve.” What could he say, in the face of that? ‘Fess up like a man, he supposed. “I’ve had lots of casual sex, more than I ever counted. And none of it meant anything. There were lots of reasons, but love was never one of them. In my whole life, I’ve only ever loved two people. One of them was smart enough to give me the ‘We’ll still be friends’ speech—and she and I still are. The other was you. I want to try.”

Steve smiled. “So, we’re good?” And Tony remembered that, for all Steve had been through, how young he still was. Battle over, problem solved, moving on. Life was messy, Tony knew. He took a breath.

“Steve, listen. Widow and Falcon are good. They’ll get Bar—Bucky, bring him back to SHIELD for deprogramming. And … you need to be there for him.”

Steve looked suspicious. “You think that’s a good idea? Do you want me to spend time with him?”

“NO! I’m just selfish enough to keep you from ever seeing each other again—and I could do it!—if I thought that would work. But it won’t.” _Crap. Throwing himself on the fucking wire again. Damn, that got old fast_! 

“Steve, he’s going to need you. Remember how lost you were when you first woke up? It’ll be ten times worse for him, when he realizes who he’s been, what he’s done. And you’ll blame me if you think you could have helped him and you didn’t try. Maybe not consciously, but you will.”

He looked into those blue, clear eyes. Steve was biting his lip, which was _not_ adorable. _Oh, who was he kidding_? Tony gave a mostly-smile and said, “But I’m glad you’re here tonight. If we try, who knows, maybe it’ll work out for all of us.”

Steve beamed. “It’ll be fine, Tony. You’ll see.” He bent down and gave Tony a sweet, gentle kiss on the lips. “Come on; let’s go in. okay?”

“Sure.” But as he turned to pick up the bottle to bring it back inside, he breathed soundlessly, “From your mouth to G-d’s ear.” Not that he believed. But he lived in an age of miracles, of endless possibilities. What was one more?

 

THE END

 

“’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” is by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.  
‘Tomorrow is another day’ is from “Gone With the Wind”.


End file.
